Darkness
by MissMinoque999
Summary: Adrain Grindelwald, Gellert Grindelwald's grandaughter, knew of her bitter heritage. Shes infatuated with Harry Potter and no more explanation is needed. Harry/OC. Covers all 7 books but not in order.
1. The Infatuation

Adrian Grindelwald knew she was infatuated with Harry Potter the minute her 11 year old self laid eyes on him. Of course, she'd heard the stories, which wizarding child hadn't?

They first saw each other, well she saw him while he gave an almost inconspicuous glance at her, in Kings Cross station. She was with her Aunt Bathilda, her great great great aunt. Her parents had died when she was young, at the hands of Tom Riddle, whom she refused to call by his nom de plume. They were seen as a threat to his power and dominative schemes; they were killed right in front of her eyes.

Harry was by himself. Adrian thought this rather strange, didn't he have a family who doted over him and cared for him when his parents couldn't? Maybe the wizarding world had been misinformed.

This was probably her uncle Albus' work. She had originally felt some bitterness towards the old man for he, of course, had imprisoned her grandfather, Gellert Grindelwald. But he was just too kind and jolly to dislike. Even she couldn't keep the petty grudge she had, and she knew how to keep one of those.

She had only met her grandfather a number of times; she could probably count the total on her fingers. For honestly, Nurmengard was not the most pleasant place to be. She shuddered at the thought of it; just imagine if her grandfather had won.

Although this girl was an overly kindred spirit, she could not disagree that she did not in fact inherit some characteristics from Gellert Grindelwald. Aunty Bathilda often commented so on the likeness, but not harshly. Another thing, most who had lived long enough to remember her grandfathers torment over Europe could comment on how she looked exactly like him, but with an obvious feminine charm. Her pale complexion; fair wavy, long hair; ice blue eyes; and lithe figure, as far as she was concerned, were both a blessing and a curse. But she found she did not care for their insults; their bitterness towards her heritage was obvious enough through these crude comments.

Oh, and yes she had inherited his charm and cunning and many other of his infamous traits. She always thought she would be in Slytherin, but was surprised when the ragged sorting hat had placed her in Gryffindor. Not that she wasn't happy about that, for she didn't have to ogle the marvellous Harry for afar, but she was startled when he had announced to the great hall she would be housed in the lion's lair for the next 7 years of her life; most others were too. It did not help that her grandfather had named her. Adrian meant darkness in his language.

Adrian received similar treatment to Harry Potter when her name was called. There was a great deal of whispering: circulating around each carefully placed student at each of the four tables like some sort of callous game of Chinese whispers. There was, furthermore, an air of bitterness that she was familiar with whenever her name was introduced; and she found that she was on the receiving end of many incredulous stares from all corners of the hall. She did glance at her Uncle Albus for a second, to find he was looking at her merrily with that familiar twinkle in his eye.

She awkwardly cleared her throat, glancing at Harry, whom she had acquainted with on the Hogwarts Express, to find he was smiling encouragingly at her-she felt her stomach twist pleasantly at this. She then looked at Ron Weasley, the boy, she had found, was rather unresponsive to her obvious bids of friendship. No questions were asked if he was raised fully aware of the wizarding world. The refusal to look her in the eye was an answer enough.

Adrian prepared for the rejection she knew well when Harry read his chocolate frog card. But Harry just looked at her with a small smile while she blushed and looked down. It was as if he understood that family did not define who you were. She found that he did when he talked about the horrible muggles he lived with: his uncle, aunt and cousin. But she got the feeling that he wanted to be like his parents. Obviously his experience was not as comprehensive as hers appeared to be.

Hermionie Granger, a ferociously intelligent muggleborn witch patted her on the shoulder when she had gracefully sat down on the Gryffindor bench, like the well-educated pure-blood witch she was. Adrian found she liked this girl, although the two boys were good company, she was not denying a feminine companion, especially when you had to sleep in a dormitory with two other girls who appeared to hate you. It did not help that many thought her that epitome of gorgeousness. Adrian was as pretty as an undeveloped 11 year old could get. Although public opinion of her was not one of goodness, she found she was glanced at by many boys while she ate adroitly at the Gryffindor table.

That night, after giving parting respects to most of the common room, lying in bed, she found that she enjoyed Hogwarts. She knew that with her new 3 friends, her time at magic school was not going to be peaceful. This was her last thought before she fell into darkness.


	2. The Pity

Pity was uncanny. Infamous. The look given by those who pretended to understand. Adrian Grindelwald hated pity.

Jealousy-the little green monster buried deep within everybody. It just depends on how willing one is to succumb to it. Whereas some hardly ever experience this curious concoction of insecurity, fear and anger, others will often fall under the clutches of this sentiment and react accordingly.

Adrian Grindelwald, truly being her ancestor's daughter she had experienced jealousy countless times throughout her 14 years of living. Her fore-fathers' wanted power, and so did she; and she felt requisite to divest of anything in the way of achieving that power.

She had previously felt empathetic to all those who had also felt the swirling emotions of insecurity, fear and anger, and applauded those who had been provided enough self restraint to not be absolutely affected by it, in her second year. Adrian could not help feeling slightly chagrined when Ginny Weasley had be clutching to Harry while departing the Chamber of Secrets; a pain in her chest alerted her of her constant predilection for the boy-who-lived. A bubbling anger slowly rose within her like that of an angry cauldron from one of Professor Snape's potion lessons, and if Harry was not in the way, she would have hexed the little red-headed girl into oblivion.

Now she wished that Cho Chang had been hexed into oblivion. When she first made her appearance at the quiddich world cup, and briefly on the quiddich pitch last year, Adrian knew that Harry was obviously entranced by her gorgeousness. Adrian did not value herself very highly in the looks and personality department, and was often very introvert about how much compliments boosted her self-confidence: a trait which she had thankfully inherited from her mother. She often found herself blushing and looking down when she had been admired by one under positive scrutiny.

Adrian often thought of the incident just before the quiddich world cup nearer the time of the Yule Ball-when she felt she had a chance with Harry. She found herself on top of him while collapsing out of the exploded fireplace at his guardian's house; her cheeks had immediately become an unnatural colour of crimson. When the boy seemed to have possessed a light dusting of pink on his cheekbones and ears, which she found immensely '_très charmant'_, her stomach was filled with some fallacious hope that he would make a move.

She found herself extremely disappointed.

The Yule Ball was announced. She had been so excited, this was her chance. Maybe, just maybe. She glanced in Harry's direction, her eyes burning an imprint of adoration in the back of her head. Hermionie next her nudged her leg, alerting Adrian that Harry had been staring at her with a somewhat confused, yet exasperated look on his face. Her checks instantly went aflame and he gave her a small smile before walking back into the room as McGonagall had called him behind. She sighed pleasantly and Hermionie gave her a small comforting smirk; Ron stared at the two with a befuddled expression-which was common in moments such as these. Her secret was safe for now.

When the Gryffindor study hall had been replaced with dance lessons, Adrian had been, yet again, hopeful. She looked on amusedly next to Hermionie as Ron, wearing a very aggravated expression, was forced to dance with the old professor. Harry was whispering something to the twins, and she looked up at them from gazing distantly down at her lap when she heard their droll snickers bouncing on the cold grey walls of the great hall.

A gaggle of girls approached Harry and she found herself yet again disappointed and slightly vexed when she saw him dancing with a number of girls. Merlin, how she did hate the pitying looks from Hermionie, most of the Gryffindor house, and Ron (who had seemed to have caught on, or simply didn't want to feel left out) who were aware of her insistent crush on Harry Potter.

The hardest thing so far, she found at the time, was seeing girls come up to Harry and ask him out. She smiled gently at the younger girls, who walked away blushing furiously and embarrassed, snickers following them. But she soon found herself glaring at those older and more experienced in the romance department, who knew very well of her crush. It seemed those who were ignorant were the younger years, Ginny Weasley (who still held an occasional pink blush when Harry talked to her) and Cho Chang. Adrian wasn't oblivious to her constant advances on the boy-who-she-loved, but it seemed everyone else was. Or was it just a figment of her imagination?

She did feel like genuinely bursting into tears when she discovered that a candid Harry had asked Cho to the ball. Even with the knowledge of her decline to the proclamation, the absolutely heartbroken look on Potter's face just further intensified the breaking of her own heart.

To say that Adrian was distant from the rest of the golden group, or just Harry, was an understatement. She was determined not to look at the boy, whom Hermione was insistent on reminding her, was asking about her daily and her best friend often commented on the boy's obliviousness to a girl's love.

Hermionie's vain attempts did not end at that. She had offered further encouragement that Harry would _come around_,and that she was upset that Ron had not asked her (for Hermionie had only told Adrian of her blatant fancy for the boy) and that she had had to go with Viktor Krum-to which Adrian had replied that Krum was a very good replacement. This act of persistency had proven that Hermione, who had offered comfort in her hardest times, was the best friend a girl could have.

It was in the study hall that she finally broke. The Weasley twins had thrown a note at Ron, which they had all read over his shoulder while trying to hide it from Snape. A mild scuffle followed this where Fred, gazing at Angelina with a look of firm adoration, had finally confirmed that he had a date. Ronald had said that Ginny should go with Harry, to which Adrian huffed and turned her head the other way, while covertly listening in, and that he should go with Hermionie. Hermionie had then proceeded to storm out the hall.

And then when she firmly locked her gaze with Harry's emerald ones she felt anger, rage and insecurity that made her miss the look he was giving her, and the hopeful gazes and mutterings of those around who knew what was going to happen next. He was going to ask her.

But then the Patil twins had passed, and caught his attention, Adrian felt she had had enough of his lollygagging and hastily stood up; her eyes glistening with fresh, noticeable tears; packed her books and much to Snape's loud protests stormed out the hall, her bag swinging wildly and bumping painfully against her leg-which was no comparison to that felt in her chest, and regarded the two girls who were looking at her with a mask of horror and realization. She wondered if everyone, who had stopped to look at her, could hear her heart aching painfully as if it had been shattered by a hammer, and finally cracking and crumbling into a pile of dust. Her soul felt as if it had been sucked right out of her by a dementor's kiss: so, so empty.

She knew she never did. But Ginny, Cho the Patil twins, every damn girl except for her _did_. She hoped her next words stung, she knew they did-they had already stung her.

_'At least you have a fucking chance'_

Oh how Adrian Grindelwald hated pity.


End file.
